Transfigured Hearts 28: A Game of Chess
by MrsTater
Summary: Arthur comes to Grimmauld Place to keep Remus company, and talk to him, mantoman. Will he prove as skilful at the art of persuasion as he is at the game of chess, or will Remus counter his moves as he has eluded Molly?


_This story follows **Through a Glass Darkly** in the **Transfigured Hearts** series, and is set in the spring of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince._ Many thanks to **Godricgal **for her splendid beta work.

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**A Game of Chess**

She had not come.

Remus stared at the kitchen clock. His grip slackened around the bread knife, and it clattered onto the cutting board.

She wasn't coming.

She always came by now with the Wolfsbane Potion, if she wasn't on duty, and he knew she wasn't doing double shifts tonight because he'd just seen Dumbledore, briefly, who had told him Bill Weasley was supplementing the Hogwarts guard tonight, not Tonks.

Why hadn't she come?

Maybe she was not going to.

It had been a month since she had, he reflected with a sigh as he dragged his gaze from the clock, gripped the knife, and cut slices of Molly's homemade bread for a sandwich. An entire month, and he had not seen Tonks _once_ in all that time, not since…

Not since the morning after full moon, when she'd found him at the Shrieking Shack and seen vestiges of the wolf.

The knife faltered.

Maybe she thought he was too far gone for--

_No. _

Remus reached for the block of Cheddar and cut a thin, precise slice.

Even if she didn't know what to say to him anymore, he knew she would stubbornly brew the Potion, trying to get through to him with her actions. It was a necessary duty for the Order.

He sighed and leant heavily against the counter, dragging a hand through his hair. As if Tonks didn't have enough duties, without the time-consuming one of brewing a Potion he could not pay her for.

He dipped the knife into the pickle jar, and began to spread a thin layer on the bread.

"Hello, Remus!"

Remus span, smearing pickle on his palm instead of the sandwich.

Arthur Weasley's green-hued, bespectacled face peered up from the fireplace. "Sorry to startle you. If I'm interrupting…"

"Not at all." Remus balanced the knife on the lip of the jar and Summoned a dishcloth. "I was just having a bit of supper."

"You're off tonight, then?" Arthur's expression was hopeful. Was he here with an invitation from Molly? Did she know what night it was, and why Tonks hadn't stopped by Grimmauld? Was Tonks at the Burrow? Was this another ploy to help them patch things up?

"On-call," Remus answered. "Dumbledore does not anticipate leaving the school tonight, but…."

Though Arthur's features were distorted by the fire, Remus could see his smile tighten, laced with worry at the thought of danger coming suddenly to the school. Remus shared his fear, but was doubly concerned by the thought of Dumbledore having to go away later this week. What if trouble arose on the night of the full moon, when Remus was truly incapacitated?

"Well," said Arthur, forcing cheerfulness back into his voice, and succeeding to do so genuinely, "if you're not busy, would you be up for a game of chess?"

Struck by the strong resemblance between Arthur and his youngest son, Remus found himself grinning. He heard his own voice, remarkably light, saying, "I wouldn't mind a match. Shall I make you a cheese and pickle sandwich, or did Molly fill you up at dinner?"

"There's always room for a sandwich," Arthur said. "Meet you in the drawing room in a jiffy!"

Arthur's head disappeared into the grate, and Remus resumed sandwich making with buoyed spirits, slathering on the pickle more generously. It had been a long time since he'd had a casual evening with a mate. For that matter, when had he last spent time with Arthur, without Molly? They were always dropping in together for supper, or inviting him to the Burrow, Molly harping at how Remus was too often alone at Grimmauld.

Perhaps she was right. Perhaps now that things were, at last, resolved with Tonks…

It was good he would not be alone when Tonks turned up with the Potion. Arthur was as good at relieving tension as his wife, well intentioned though she was, was at creating it.

He made four sandwiches, sliced them, then arranged the halves on a platter. Quickly he boiled the kettle, stuck a few teabags in a pair of mugs, and poured the hot water over them. He looped the handles over his fingers and, balancing the sandwiches on one palm, carefully carried everything up the narrow kitchen stairs.

To Remus' surprise, the drawing room was empty when he entered it. Just as he'd finished laying out the tea and sandwiches on the credenza, however, Arthur appeared in the fireplace, rather predictably carrying a glass covered dish that appeared to hold one of Molly's cakes.

"I was sure you'd beat me up here," said Remus, taking the cake.

Arthur glanced up with a nervous grin as he dusted off his robes.

What had caused this change of mood?

"Err, um," Arthur said, "Bill popped in just as I was about to Floo over."

Remus' eyebrows shot up. "Bill's got the night shift at Hogwarts."

Arthur shot another furtive glance at Remus as he as he rifled through the pockets of his green robes. "Not anymore." He drew out a starched monogrammed handkerchief, removed his eyeglasses, and polished the lenses. "Tonks traded shifts with him."

Remus' heart thudded…

…and stopped.

She was not coming.

"She sent this with him." Arthur put on his spectacles then reached into his pocket again, this time drawing out a phial. Remus had never really been able to picture the row between Arthur and Percy, but he could, clearly, as Arthur looked him straight in the eyes and said, "For you."

Vaguely, Remus registered setting the cake on the sideboard with the rest of the food. The weight of the phial in his hands seemed so much greater.

This was it, then.

Tonks was a dutiful colleague. Potion-brewing was an act of charity now -- or at most, mercy.

Love…perhaps.

Though not for very much longer. She was moving on. Why else would she keep away?

It hurt.

It shouldn't. This was what he had wanted. He _wanted_ her to move on, to find a new life, to be happy and fulfilled. It should not hurt him, to give this to her.

But it did. He had never been foolish enough to think it would not. Yet he had never imagined it would hurt worse than their separation.

Or even as much as hurting her.

_Selfish bastard. _

Arthur had sat down at the little table the window, and was taking his chess set out of a leather case.

Numbly, Remus sank onto his seat and realised that the last time he had played chess had been at this table, with Sirius, the night he--

"She's avoiding you."

"Yes."

"This is a Muggle chess set, Remus," Arthur said gently. "The pieces won't arrange themselves."

Though he didn't feel like playing anymore, Remus set the phial on the corner of the table and fumbled with the pieces. This was what people -- what mates -- did. They made you play when you didn't want to, to help get your mind off your troubles.

After a brief, dispassionate dispute about who would be white, Arthur agreed to go first. He considered the board for a moment, then moved a pawn.

He looked at Remus. "That's new for Tonks, avoidance."

Or a mate made you play, and made you face your troubles as well.

"She avoided me all autumn." Remus slowly slid his pawn forward two squares, mirroring Arthur's move.

"It was different then. She thought she was doing what you needed." Arthur sat silently for a moment, pushing his glasses up his nose as he leant forward to plot his next move. "You can't tell me she's decided you don't need her."

Remus' gaze was drawn to the bottle of Wolfsbane Potion, and he weighed her last words to him against his own recent assumptions. "She doesn't know what to do any more. She told me."

Or had that changed in the past month of not seeing each other?

_Was_ she trying to move on?

He freed a space in front of his knight.

"That means she's leaving it up to you." Quickly, clearly having anticipated Remus' last move, Arthur took the pawn.

"I made up my mind last summer." As if to underscore his powers of decision, Remus moved a bishop to the front lines.

After a few moments, Arthur moved another white pawn forward, then sat back in his chair and studied Remus. The glare obscured his eyes behind his glasses. "Why do you push her away? I know your situation's difficult, but Tonks is a remarkable witch. If any woman's suited, it's her."

Remus fought a sarcastic snort at the idea of any woman being a _suitable_ mate for a werewolf. He knew what Arthur was getting at.

"That's not the problem," he said with a sigh. "I am not suited to her." His bishop captured Arthur's.

Swiftly, the white king captured the bishop. "She certainly thinks you are."

"She doesn't realise how much better she deserves. If she'd only try…" Now seemed like a good time to bring out a knight.

Arthur studied the chessboard with a frown. Abruptly, he turned to the credenza and Summoned the sandwiches.

"Most women deserve better than the men they're with." He selected one, then offered the platter to Remus. "But I wonder…_Are _there any men good enough?"

Of course there weren't -- especially not for Tonks.

"Nearly anyone would be better than me."

Remus took a sandwich, even though he'd lost his appetite. It wouldn't do to waste food, and anyway, he thought, glimpsing the Potion again, the cheese and pickle would take the edge off the foul stuff.

"Perhaps…" Arthur finished off his half-sandwich as he contemplated the chessboard. He helped himself to a second, took a bite, then brought out his knight. "That's her decision, though."

The number of white pieces advancing on Remus' ranks was beginning to concern him, but he simply hadn't the concentration to ponder the best move. Thinking he might need access to a castle soon, he moved another pawn.

Calmly, Remus sipped his potion, and managed to keep a straight face as the taste -- too putrid to be described as bitter -- rolled over his tongue and burned his throat. "It takes two to tango."

The last response he expected was laughter -- but Arthur chuckled and looked up from pondering his next move. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

In spite of himself, Remus gave way to the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, somehow I can't quite picture myself looking sexy or robust enough to carry off the tango…Or Tonks keeping upright."

He had a clear image in his mind of Tonks wobbling as he dipped her. She wore a deep frown as she focused on not losing her balance, and she was so intense that she accidentally chomped the rose clutched between her teeth in two.

"Don't people look very serious when they dance the tango?" Arthur asked, incredulous. "I can't see either of you pair keeping a straight face. Or…I couldn't…"

His laughter faded, and the smile fell off Remus' face.

"You tangoed last year," said Arthur quietly.

Remus' bite of sandwich went down a tube not meant to participate in the digestive process. He started to choke, but stifled it. He rose from his chair and strode to the sidebar for a cup of tea.

"Look," said Arthur, turning in his seat, "it's perfectly understandable that with you being away so long this year, you felt you couldn't support Tonks like she needed. But now…Well, frankly, I just don't see how your situation's changed that much since last year."

Remus sloshed tea as he removed the bag steeping in the cup.

He cast a _Scourgify_ on the fine old mahogany. Dear Merlin, was Arthur serious? _Everything_ had changed since last year.

As Remus resumed his seat, Arthur moved out his second knight to form a rear-guard for his two front pawns.

Remus stared at the chessboard, absently casting a warming charm on his tea. His mind was still trying to wrap itself around Arthur's statement, not game strategy. His life had completely changed. Or at least, he no longer had anything to hide behind. How could people not see?

But then, if the person he'd been closest to did not see, how could he expect anyone else to?

"It was easy to forget last year," Remus said. "I'd my boyhood mate back, and I was part of something I had been as a young man. I didn't feel fourteen years older than Tonks."

He brought his second knight into the battle, to fill a gap that had left the queen unprotected.

"Isn't the age you feel more important than the age you are?"

"I thought so," Remus replied. "And if it were the only thing…"

No, he could not let himself go there. Years separated him and Tonks in more ways than just his past she did not share, and the difference in their ages _was _one of many obstacles.

He swallowed a second draught of Wolfsbane Potion.

Arthur moved a bishop halfway across the board.

"Last year I was perpetually occupied with Order work," Remus said. "I could forget I was unemployed."

Except for not ever having any money to take her out and buy her the gifts she deserved, that he wanted to give her.

He slid his queen one space away from the king, then continued, "This year, I lived the life of a shiftless vagrant. If not for the Order, that's how life would be for me."

Arthur gave Remus a measured look, but without saying anything, returned his gaze to his army of carved white ivory.

"And there was no Wolfsbane Potion underground," Remus said, finishing off the current dose. "I saw what…Well -- werewolves are classified as Dark Creatures for a reason."

In the ensuing silence, Remus finished his sandwich (which, instead of masking the Potion's flavour, had assumed it) and sipped his tea.

"I always took you for a realist," Arthur said after he had at last made his move. "There _is _a Potion, and there _is _the Order. Why talk as if there weren't?"

"I am still penniless, and older than Tonks by a generation, and a werewolf. If she were your daughter, Arthur, would you be having this conversation with me?"

Looking as put out as Remus had ever seen him, jaw muscle just working beneath his cheek, Arthur moved his queen diagonally, to the edge of the board.

"Tonks is like a daughter to Molly and me. We love her very much, and we respect her ability to choose the path that's best for her."

Arthur's eyes blinked behind the lenses of his glasses, and he seemed for a moment to be debating inwardly whether to say what he wanted.

"I've a sense," he began, carefully, but tone growing more sure as he forged ahead, "that when you say too old, what you're really saying's that she's too young to know what she wants."

"I respect her," Remus said quickly, and moved a pawn to stand boldly in front of Arthur's queen. "But she _is_ inexperienced."

Arthur scratched his head of thinning red hair and let out a puff of disbelieving laughter. "Not every happy, healthy couple's got past relationships under their belts."

"I didn't mean to suggest—"

"Your lack of funds bothers you." Arthur set his knight resolutely in Remus' half of the board, then looked levelly at him. "Why? Do you think men ought to be the main breadwinners?"

"Of course not." Without consideration, Remus brought his queen further out. "But…if there were children, Tonks wouldn't always be able to work…"

"If you anticipate money being a problem," said Arthur in a tone which, although tolerant, told Remus he had made the most unimpressive argument he possibly could have, "you can save for the lean times. You might've noticed we live like a family whose Gringotts vault doesn't need security wards. But Molly and I managed to raise seven well-adjusted children."

His hand hovered over a piece for a moment, then went back to his lap as he deliberated his move further.

"Most of them, anyway," Arthur amended quietly, eyes darting away from the game, and looking very much as though he were trying to convince himself of something. "They make their own choices."

Remus thought of Percy, and his preoccupation with appearances, with prestige. If Arthur had been more attentive to his son in this area, would Percy have abandoned the family? It brought to mind comments Tonks had made about her mother, and he wondered, not for the first time, if Andromeda had ever regretted marrying Ted.

"Your move," said Arthur, and Remus realised he had not even noticed his opponent's play, nor could he pick it out among the other pieces.

"Where did you…?"

Arthur pointed to his king, now protected in a corner by three pawns and a castle. "Sorry. It's rude to talk in chess. I'll leave you alone. Merlin knows you've heard enough from Molly."

But as Arthur fell silent, Remus' found his mind lingering on the relationship talk. It was different with Arthur. There was practicality here. Logic. There might be answers to some of the questions he had never dared ask.

"You've raised a wonderful family," Remus said, moving a castle. "Haven't you wished you'd been able to do more for them?"

Remus knew it was a horribly nosy, and likely rude, question, but Arthur did seem to be opening the door for advice, drawing parallels.

"Did you sense _they_ wanted more?" Remus asked.

"Of course I'd like to give Molly the best of everything," said Arthur, without any sign of having been affronted, or feeling any shame in being poor.

He Summoned the plate of sandwiches again, though this time Remus did not take one. Arthur took a bite, then said with a half-grin, "To use your pet phrase, Molly _deserves _better than I can give her. By the way, the Prewetts were none too thrilled about her marrying a wizard without any ambitions of wealth or power. It was hard sometimes, knowing she was sacrificing to be with me -- especially when the babies started coming. But I learnt to believe her when she says she doesn't _need _the best of everything. There are things I can give her that no other wizard can, not even if he had vaults of gold."

Though Remus saw the truth in Arthur's words, some part of him vigorously resisted the idea that it could apply to _his _situation. He said nothing, though, until several more plays had passed -- during which Arthur captured several of Remus' chessmen.

"Arthur," Remus said when Arthur got up for a piece of cake, "I appreciate all you and Molly have tried to do for for us..."

Arthur looked up at him with a small, quizzical smile.

"For both of us," Remus corrected, but still that wasn't quite right. "For her and me."

It felt unnatural to separate them. Had Tonks stopped thinking in terms of _us_?

"Tonks, especially," Remus said, "has needed looking-after--"

"No, she hasn't. She's needs _you_."

Remus' eyes dropped.

"You're all she's holding on to," Arthur went on. "That's why we've been encouraging her not to give up on you. We can't let her let go."

The earlier words came back: he was pushing Tonks away, and to what? Work?

He wanted to give her a life. But she wasn't living.

Not any more than he was living without her.

"We don't want you to let go, either," Arthur's kind voice broke in. "You're the best of men, Remus. We've never doubted that, no matter what's happened, or what you've done. We've missed you, and we want to see you happy. With Tonks."

It was so kind, and so sincere, and it made Remus' chest tighten.

"It's not that simple," he said hoarsely, knowing Arthur was not convinced and, for the first time, acknowledging that the argument was not terribly convincing even to himself. "It's not the same as you and Molly."

Arthur moved a pawn as he sat again, then startled Remus by saying, "I'm sorry. I _can't_ understand, and it's between you and Tonks."

Remus moved his knight into Arthur's territory.

We _chose _to have seven children, by the way," Arthur said abruptly. "Err, well, we didn't go to a great deal of trouble to prevent seven children." His knight captured Remus'. "We knew how it would be for us. We'd do it all over again, in a heartbeat."

Remus considered Molly's horrifying boggart. He remembered encouraging her, speaking of the boggart as though it were nothing serious, trying to convince her that the Order would protect her children if the worst came to the worst. But he'd never been able to fault her for being immobilised by that fear. Was what had happened to Tonks on his account that dissimilar?

"Even now?" It was probably an obvious set-up, but Remus saw only the opportunity for his pawn to take the knight that had captured his.

"Molly, Bill, and Charlie are risking their lives in the Order, Fred and George might blow themselves up or poison themselves inventing some trick toy…Or who knows, the joke shop could be an elaborate ruse to infiltrate the Ministry or the Death Eaters."

He shook his head, and though smiling faintly, he looked as weary as Molly often did, from raising Fred and George.

"Ron and Ginny are probably breaking every rule at Hogwarts, helping Harry in his latest adventure.…"

Arthur's face went truly lined and grey at that.

"Our clock always points to _mortal peril_. I'm scared to death some days."

With his queen, Arthur took Remus' pawn, and looked up with eyes that blazed as they had at St. Mungo's, after his brush with death. "I wouldn't trade any of them for peace of mind."

Hope quickened Remus' heart--

--for a moment.

His gaze fell. "You've got courage."

His remaining knight retreated to protect his king.

"Because of them," Arthur said, leaning forward. "I thought all Gryffindors knew, you especially…Courage is something you _find_, Remus. Because you've got to. For them."

At a movement of Arthur's hand in his peripheral, Remus looked up. Arthur took his pawn. "Check."

He took off his glasses, buffed them on his robes, and studied Remus again through the clear lenses. "Seems to me that might be how things like Patronus changes happen."

Remus slid his king diagonally, toward Arthur's knight.

"I don't know what it is you're so afraid of," Arthur said quietly, moving his knight out of harm's way. "Check."

Remus had no choice but to move his king. He knew what Arthur's final play would be.

"I don't think you've worked out what you're afraid of, either," Arthur said. "You might hurt Tonks, if you're with her. You're certainly hurting her now. If you're protecting yourself, I can't imagine what from. And I doubt it could hurt more than you're hurting yourself." Smiling slightly, he added, "Maybe your Patronus will sprout pink spiky hair."

He moved his queen.

"Checkmate."

_The End_

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_**A/N: See, I promised this one wouldn't be as angsty as the previous one. To ensure things keep looking up for Remus, reviewers may choose the game of their choice to try and convince him to stop being a Noble Prat. Personally, I'm thinking Twister's got lots of persuasive possibilities…**_

_**I really appreciate my readers' support throughout this series. Your encouragement has really kept me going. Only two to go! **_

_**If you're looking for something brighter to read in the meantime, check out the piece I've co-Authored with Gilpin, Up All Night - it's posted under her pen name.**_


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